


Not Old Enough

by Elenaiel



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: 3rd Age - The Stewards, Action/Adventure, Estel, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 06:10:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3885328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elenaiel/pseuds/Elenaiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Denied yet another hunt, Estel decides to follow anyway. Lost outside of Rivendell and getting sicker by the minute, it looks hopeless. Flooding further complicates the mess, and Estel doesn't know if he'll ever be reunited with his family...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

**Not Old Enough**

By: Elenaiel

Rating: PG (nothing serious, Estel angst)

Warnings: none really

Summary: After being denied yet another hunt, Estel decides to follow anyway. Lost outside of Rivendell and getting sicker by the minute, it looks hopeless. Flooding further complicates the mess, and Estel doesn't know if he'll ever be reunited with his family.

Spoilers: none

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the unrecognizable stuff. I think they'd all run away if I owned them; I would have too much fun. I am making no money off of this, only playing with someone else's (Tolkien's) toys.

Feedback: Any feedback is much appreciated, and if you see a mistake it is my fault and I ask that you let me know, as that is the only way I can fix it. Don't forget to thank the rabid plot bunny that struck at 2:00 this morning for this story.

A/N: In this story, as with all my others, Gilraen was killed with Arathorn, simply because I do not know enough about her character to write it and still do it justice. When Tolkien says Aragorn was "raised in the House of Elrond" I have taken it literally, Elrond being his foster father and the twins being his foster brothers.

A/N2: This story takes place when Aragorn is seven years old.

A/N3: denotes thoughts, flashbacks- indicates the passage of time (going either way. That is, it may be earlier or later in the day)

:Chapter One:  
  
"No Estel, for the last time, I'm sorry but you are not old enough! And if you do not stop this begging you will never go, at least not with me" Elladan said, snapping at his young human brother. Estel's wide silver-blue eyes brimmed with tears and his mouth opened and closed as though he was trying to talk.  
  
"I..." he began, swallowing hard. A tear made its way down his cheek. This was always how it ended; his older brothers would never take him with them. He was only six months away from turning eight...would he be old enough then? It didn't matter if Elladan followed through on his threat; then Estel would never be able to go hunting with his brother. Elrohir might take him someday, but not Elladan, and that hurt. Estel was closer to Elladan than Elrohir, if simply because he loved hands on things as did Elladan, while Elrohir was a book person.  
  
"Oh Estel, I am truly sorry little one" Elladan started to say, seeing the tear slide down his cheek and the yet unshed ones in his eyes. Before he could finish, however, Estel gave a heartwrenching sob and ran towards the House of Elrond.  
  
"I think that may have been a bit harsh, brother" Elrohir said quietly, looking after his younger sibling. Even if Estel wasn't brother by blood and even if he had only been with them a few years, while he and Elladan had been together for millennia, Elrohir was very fond and protective of the boy. "It's the first time in how long he has gone a week without crying because someone important to him shunned him. I must say, I think you need to apologize. In fact, we're not leaving until you do. I suggest you find him before he crawls into one of his little holes, or you won't be able to get him out."  
  
"Yes, I know that was harsh, and I was trying to apologize, if you didn't notice. But he has got to learn, it's only for his protection. It's not like I am really shunning him. I just don't want him hurt. Does he have any idea what it would do to me? Knowing it was my fault my youngest brother was hurt, or worse" Elladan asked, sounding at first like he was trying to reassure himself. Sighing, he dismounted his horse and dashed off to find Estel.  
  
Elrohir watched for a second before an idea struck him. "Elladan, wait a moment. Perhaps Estel could accompany us for a little while, no where beyond his play boundaries, but, say, to the gates? And we could promise to take him out for the weekend when we return."  
  
Elladan thought it over for a minute and nodded. He really hadn't meant to drive the boy to tears; only to protect him. Now how to get Estel to understand that...Elladan wasn't sure. He had to find the human first though.  
  
Estel, on the other hand, had no intention of being found. He hadn't taken his usual course, running through the Hall of Fire. Instead, he'd taken a turn away from the Hall, back into a new place he'd found the day before. He furrowed his brow intently as he counted the doors in the tiny passage. No Elf would think of looking for him there. All the same, he wasn't sure any would try to look for him. The twins were off hunting by now, and his ada was meeting guests and would be busy till late that afternoon.  
  
"...Five...six" Estel said quietly. He opened the door and crawled in, closing the door behind him. The closet he was now in was unused, had been for a long while. Estel had spent all day yesterday cleaning out the cobwebs and things for just such an opportunity. It was his only indoor hiding place where he could probably scream if he wanted to but no one would hear and he would be left alone.  
  
All alone. Like he always seemed to be.  
  
"It's not fair. Elladan and Elrohir got to hunt when they were little. Why c-can't I? Everyone e-else can. I-I-I'm not a b-baby like everyone t-t-t- thinks" he hiccuped. "It's not fair" he shouted to the ceiling, his small lungs making quite a large sound. For a moment, he was afraid he'd been too loud and someone would find him and reprimand him. Moving very stealthily for a seven-year-old human child, he crept to the door and listened. No one.  
  
In another part of the house, Elladan had searched all Estel's known hiding spots and found no sign of his brother. Pursing his lips, he shook his head and continued.  
  
"Might I inquire as to what you are doing, Elladan" a voice asked behind him. Elladan's head snapped up, having been caught unaware. He had to stifle a small cry when the back of his head slammed into the stone table he'd been crouching under. "Wondering if Estel had found a new hiding spot. Have you seen him" Elladan answered, rubbing his head. A lump was already forming, and the point of impact throbbed. Glorfindel had to bite back a laugh at the sight.  
  
"No, I have not. Why would he be hiding" Glorfindel replied, concern evident on his face.  
  
"I would not allow him to accompany Elrohir and I on our hunting trip. He ran off in tears and I'm trying to find him to apologize. He is not in any of his usual places, though. I can't seem to find him" Elladan said. Glorfindel was torn between laughter and lecture.  
  
"As young as he is and he can avoid one of the best trackers Rivendell has to offer. So be it. We won't have to worry about him being caught in a bad situation, he can sneak off and no one would know where he'd got to" was his response. "I suppose we should keep looking, as I seem to recall Elrohir shouting for you to hurry."  
  
"Aye, we should be setting off right about now. But I cannot leave without apologizing."  
  
A good half-hour later, Estel was still crying silently in his hidden sanctuary. Elladan and Glorfindel had searched every spot they thought possible except the hallway Estel was in "He won't know about that, no one's told him and he should never have been that way. Too many memories for him to disturb there. Nay, I am sure he is not there" Elladan had said.  
  
"Elladan! Have you found him yet? The hour grows late toror'nin" my brother Elrohir called. "We must go now, I suppose you shall have to make it up to him double when we return."  
  
"Elrohir is right, you know, you really must be going if you are to make it to the far edge of the valley before nightfall. Go. I must return to my work; I no longer have time to take the break I was looking for" Glorfindel said, turning and walking towards Elrond's consultation rooms.  
  
"Well, I cannot find him. Come, Elrohir, let's go. I will find him first thing when we return" Elladan said walking out to his brother. Once he was seated securely, he wasted no time spurring his horse into a gallop. Elrohir followed, and soon they were mere specks on the horizon, heading swiftly for the edge of Rivendell.  
  
"It's not fair. I wanna go. If I follow them then they have to take me, ada will be mad if they leave me all alone in the forest. Yeah, then I'll get to go an' I'll show 'em how big I am" Estel said excitedly to himself in his hideaway. He'd heard Elladan calling him, a few moments earlier, but he still had tear tracks on his face and didn't want his brother to know he'd been crying. Big boys, boys old and big enough to hunt, didn't cry because they'd been told no.  
  
The little boy had sat for a while, wondering why his brother so disliked him that he would not even take him hunting with him. It wasn't even a real hunting trip, it'd just be Elladan and Elrohir out there to get away from Rivendell. That's it. Nothing dangerous.  
  
"I wonder why they can't even take me on a lil trip like that" Estel murmured absentmindedly, crawling from the closet and slinking back to his room. He grabbed the biggest pack he had and began stuffing it with necessities, like clothes and his warm gloves and socks. He even snuck down into the kitchen and stole some foodstuffs for himself. Unfortunately, they were gone before he'd hit the door. It wasn't his fault he was hungry. Sighing resignedly, he made his way back for more food.  
  
"Well hello Estel, how is my favorite little one today? Would you like a piece of apple" one of the elves who regularly worked in the kitchens asked, handing Estel a large slice of delicious red apple.  
  
"Thank you Almarë" Estel said graciously. Continuing around the kitchens, bartering with his adorable grins and many hugs and kisses on elven cheeks, Estel managed to procure two more whole apples, one red and one green, several slices of bread, two apple pasties, and a linen to wrap it all in.  
  
Leaving the kitchens and sneaking out the front door, Estel looked to the ground. Elladan had taught him basic tracking skills, and Elrohir had taught him a small amount of archery...  
  
"My bow! I almost forgot it" Estel cried, drawing the attention of a servant on the balcony. Racing inside and grabbing his miniature bow and a few arrows, Estel barely made it out again without getting caught.  
  
"I gotta be more careful" he whispered once he was outside on the path. The twins had not taken the main road, they had taken a side road that bypassed the gates and was known to few. Estel knew of it though, and he had overheard their plans. They would take the road to the other end of the valley and camp there for a few days before leaving.  
  
Having no doubts about his ability to find his brothers, Estel set out happily on his road.  
  
By nightfall the little human was tired and hungry, and still very far away from his brothers. From the top of the hill he was on, he had no trouble seeing the small dot that was their campfire, but it was terribly far off.  
  
"Maybe I should stay here for a while" Estel said, shaking his dark locks out of his tired eyes. The child climbed a small ways into a tree and munched on an apple before promptly falling asleep.  
  
"Ahh" Estel was awoken in the middle of the night by a screeching sound. A pack of wolves traversed the ground beneath him, uttering cries to the sky. The cubs were what had woken him, he realized as one screeched again.  
  
Wolves are better than wargs I guess, but they're still pretty bad, Estel thought. Remembering his bow, he reached for an arrow and shot at the nearest animal. Unfortunately, his were blunt arrows, and only served to anger the animal. It launched up at him, snarling with rage. Estel screamed again and climbed higher, dropping one of his arrows in the process.  
  
It struck him for the first time that it was getting very, very cold. Too cold for a little boy to be out with only a light cloak on.  
  
"Good thing I brought my heavy cloak." Ada would be proud if he knew his son was prepared...  
  
Oh no! Ada! He was definitely going to send someone to look for Estel if he noticed he was gone and hadn't left notice.  
  
Groaning, Estel nearly slapped himself for not thinking of that earlier. The groan turned to a terrified sob as thunder and lightning flashed around him. Pulling his heavy cloak on, Estel hunkered down against the rain in the tree.  
  
"I dunno which I'm more scared of, the wolves or the lightning" Estel murmured to no one. Thunder rumbled loudly, shaking the very ground it seemed, causing Estel to nearly fall from the tree. He would have remained on the branch, just barely, but at that moment lightning struck the tip of the tree next to him. Estel screamed louder than ever, crying helplessly in the downpour that was falling through the trees. The event had shaken him so badly he lost his grip, and fell to the mud with a heavy thump. The wolves had begun to leave, but a few lingered, and upon seeing the child sprawled unconscious, they took their chance. The largest female there jumped towards him, landing on his back and eliciting a pained cry. Opening her large jaws, she turned her head to the side for the right angle to crush the child's skull...


	2. Chapter One

**Not Old Enough Chapter Two**

**By** : Elenaiel

**For full heading (summary, rating, warnings/spoilers, disclaimer, and A/N), please see first chapter.**

**Also** , I am operating on the basis that Glorfindel of Imladris is in fact the reincarnated Glorfindel of Gondolin, who perished battling a Balrog at the Fall of Gondolin. I know there are people who disagree, but Tolkien did say they were the same (although not intended to be at first). If you disagree please take all freedoms you want, but be civil.

* * *

...Just as the she-wolf's jaws began to close, piercing the skin on Estel's head, a quick-moving noise caught her attention. Raising her head for a moment, she saw something no one ever wants to see.

A white wall of water was rushing straight at her. Yipping to the other wolves, she took off in the opposite direction as fast as her long legs could carry her.

Estel awoke as the first droplets of icy cold water sprinkled his forehead. His entire body ached, especially his head and his arm. The first thought springing through his groggy mind was a desperate wish for his ada and brothers.

His wish soon disappeared though, as he felt himself swept up in a torrent of freezing water. Panicking, he opened his eyes and kicked desperately. Estel knew how to swim, Elladan had taught him that very summer, but his small kicks and weakly paddling arms were no match for the flood's power, and he could not find his way to the surface.

Despair swept over him as he dimly realized that if he did not breathe, and soon, he would die. I don't wanna die! he thought, but his head was spinning and he HAD to breathe, NOW.

Kicking one last time, Estel's head contacted the valley floor. Reflexively, he drew a breath.

The little human thought his lungs were going to explode, the pain was so terrible. Screaming in his mind, Estel's lungs heaved and burned even more as he tried to spit the water back up and draw in air. Unfortunately, there was no air, only water. Refusing to give in, oblivious as only children can be to the fact that it was likely he would not make it out of this, Estel reversed direction and kicked as hard as he could for as long as he could. Just as he was about to black out, Estel's head broke the surface.

Coughing and sputtering, Estel drew as much air as his still waterlogged lungs could hold. Looking around, he realized the floodwaters had carried him past Imladris and were heading quickly for the edge of the valley.

Flipping and falling down a few sets of tiny waterfalls, Estel realized he was no longer in the valley at all. Instead, he was in an unfamiliar, frightening place. While the land was just like that in the valley, the trees appeared somehow...older. Somewhat worn with time. Inside Imladris, everything seemed to be magical, standing up to time and weather over hundreds of years as if it were mere seconds.

The floodwaters had dispersed now, and left Estel standing in an ankle deep lake. Shivering with cold and pain, the little boy retched in the water, falling to his knees. He looked up, breathing harshly and shaking so badly he could barely stand. Wishing more than ever for Elrond and the twins, Estel hobbled to the nearest tree, having enough sense to know he needed to get up high again, high so any more floods couldn't reach him.

"This...was a bad...idea" he sniffled. It took a while to find a tree he could climb with an injured arm and near frozen legs, but Estel found one, passing out as soon as he was into the branches.

-

Earlier that day...

Elrond sighed wearily, looking out into the golden August sky. As the guests from Mirkwood, including Prince Legolas, departed to freshen for supper, Elrond followed. Instead of going to the guest chambers, however, he headed towards his son's room. Elladan and Elrohir were gone on a short hunt, and they hadn't taken their brother, so it was safe to assume Estel would be lonely as could be in his bedroom. The child had no Elven children to play with, as Arwen was the last Elf born in Middle Earth and she was very much older than Estel. He would be lonely today, without his brothers.

"Estel" Elrond asked, opening the door to the human's room. "Estel, are you in here" There was no answer.

Spying a bulge underneath the covers that had been shoved to the bottom of the unmade bed, Elrond approached, thinking Estel may have fallen asleep. A soft prod in the center of the bulge proved otherwise, though, and Elrond found himself puzzling.

Perhaps he went to play in the woods, he thought, looking casually out the window. There was no sign of the boy, but then, having been raised with Elves, when Estel did not wish to be seen he usually wasn't.

Elrond shook his head once more and headed back to his own chambers to wash and prepare for supper, thoughts of Estel almost overshadowed by the weight of the messages from Mirkwood. Orcs were once again extremely active in the forest, and the spiders were getting bolder. Dol Guldur was becoming more active also, which was most troubling of all news.

"Lord Elrond" It was Erestor, approaching quickly. Nodding his head to the Lord of Imladris in the proper way, he continued. "I am sorry to hinder you, but I thought you may want to know, a pack of wolves has been spotted by the sentry in the outermost tower, facing the woods. I've presumed that since Estel is not in his room, nor anywhere in the building, he is in the forest. He needs to be alerted immediately. I have sent Uruin to search for him."

Nodding his approval and concealing his concern, Elrond thanked Erestor. Fussy and rule-oriented though he was, the Elf was quite good company if you could get him to loosen up. Unfortunately, he tended to do so only when he'd been given a few glasses of wine.

"Erestor. Your presence is requested in the Hall of Fire in five minutes, if you can be ready by then" Elrond called, heading towards the Hall. He arrived in the magnificent part of his home early for supper. Glorfindel was already there, dressed in his formalwear and talking amiably with Prince Legolas of Mirkwood. Catching the blond Elf's attention, Elrond motioned towards himself and then down a little used passageway. Ironically, it was the same one Estel had used hours earlier to hide from his seekers.

"Excuse me, Prince Legolas, it seems I am needed elsewhere for a moment, I will not be long" Glorfindel said, standing and heading towards Elrond. "What is it? What has happened" he asked, knowing Elrond would not call him away for idle talk.

"Wolves have been spotted near the watchtower by the wood. Estel is…" Elrond paused mid-sentence. A puzzled look had overtaken Glorfindel's face, a look not often seen on him. It was very difficult to cause Glorfindel of the Golden Flower of Gondolin to puzzle in such a way. Confusion appeared in his eyes and around his mouth; not on his entire face.

"Pardon, hîr nin, but we have not been the only ones here today." Elrond turned to look and saw that indeed, the sixth door down the hall was slightly ajar. Frowning, Glorfindel asked"I was not aware anyone but you, your children, Erestor and I knew of this passage. It is hidden, is it not"

"No one but us knows of this, and Estel is not numbered among those who do. Come, carefully, let us see who our intruder is." Glorfindel stepped to Elrond's side, and the two made their way down the passage to the door. Quietly drawing a dagger always hidden in his boot—one never knew when it might be needed—Glorfindel whipped the door open.

Nothing happened.

Peeking inside, the Elf Lords discovered no occupants. Still holding his dagger readily, Glorfindel stepped fully inside, lighting his eyes upon an imprint of a small shape in the light dust covering one of the boxes in the space.

"Elrond, look. Someone very small has been in here."

Elrond examined the print for a moment before saying"This is Estel's print. I was not aware he knew of this passage. Still, my heart is trembling. Something is amiss. Estel, I fear, is in danger. Glorfindel, I need you to go to the forest and search where he should be. If you do not find him, come back as quick as you can. I will make your excuses." Moving swiftly back down the passage and into the Hall, Elrond quickly made a decision. Standing at the head of the table he addressed the group quickly.

"Mellyn nin, I must inform you my youngest son is missing. Things very dangerous to a seven-year-old have been spotted in the woods of the valley. Therefore, Lord Glorfindel will not be joining us, but shall search for Estel. I trust that he shall find my son, but should he return without him I wish you to know I will head out immediately, regardless of the time" he said, cutting out his suspicions. Estel may have followed his brothers. Elbereth, please protect him until I can find him.

Some of the Mirkwood guests appeared a tad angry that their host would be willing to abandon them in the middle of the celebration planned for that night if need be, but most Elves in the hall appeared shocked and worried.

"We understand, Lord Elrond" Prince Legolas said quietly after a moment. While he was not young, he had no children and did not fully comprehend Elrond's distress. Still, he knew very well Elrond would not leave guests unless he had no choice, having been to Imladris many times before. His father and Elrond may have a rift between them, but the Prince and Elrond did not.

"Thank you, Prince Legolas. Now, let us begin our meal, for it will get cold if we do not" was Elrond's reply, and he sat down to his supper of venison and various delicacies. Talk in the Hall was mostly about the missing prince of Rivendell.

No more than an hour after the meal was finished, just after dark, Glorfindel returned dirty and empty handed. The celebration was slowed as many turned to look at him, talking hurriedly to Elrond.

The Lord of Imladris wore an extremely worried expression on his face. Standing once more from his seat, he hushed the crowd.

"Estel has not been found. I regret to leave like this, but I will not abandon a child in the forest alone at night. I give you my apologies as I take leave to find my youngest."

Glorfindel smiled quickly at the silent group before following Elrond out of the Hall. Legolas slowly followed.

"Lord Elrond, Lord Glorfindel, I wish to help. If you give me but a moment I will be ready" he said seriously. Elrond opened his mouth to refuse, but Legolas did not give him the chance. "I wish to help. The forest is no place for a child, and one more pair of eyes can do no harm." Legolas dashed to his chambers without waiting for an answer and prepared while Glorfindel gathered his best archers and trackers. Legolas was right, one more pair of eyes would do no harm, and the Prince was one of the best archers in Middle Earth.

"Glorfindel, I do not ask you to go out again. You look as though you could use a wash, and I'm sure you would not mind a little merriment" Elrond turned to his faithful protector. "You do not have to go."

"I would not be merry knowing Estel is out there alone. As Legolas said, one more pair of eyes will not hurt, and I must warn you that if I do not go with you I will go on my own" Glorfindel answered. His eyes flashed. Stepping closer to Elrond and placing his hand on Elrond's arm, he looked his long time friend in the eye. "I know I do not have to go, but I swore to protect you and your family, and I mean to keep that oath. I have failed once, I shall not do so again."

Elrond sighed and clapped Glorfindel on the shoulder. "Thank you" he said quietly. Legolas had returned by this time, but not wanting to interrupt the Elf Lords he wisely chose to remain on the stairs. He almost waited too long, however, as the Elves turned and began to leave.

Once the entire search party had gathered, gear in hand, they set off into the forest, searching in the thunder for a tiny child, lost somewhere out there.

"Aye" one of Glorfindel's men, a member of the Imladris Guard, cried. "I've found a trail"

"Good work, follow it as fast as you can without losing it. The rain that is sure to come will wash it away, so make haste" Glorfindel replied, whistling to the rest of the group. They followed the trail closely into the forest a ways before it began to rain, hard. So hard that the trail, which had been easily followed, even in the dark, was now near impossible to find, much less follow.

Suddenly, without warning, the sounds of a flash flood were heard. The would-be rescue party climbed swiftly into the tops of the trees, letting the water rush by swiftly below. The flood headed out towards the edge of the valley. The wet Elves climbed down from the trees, but the trail they'd been following was gone along with most of the loose litter on the bottom of the forest. One of the older members of the Imladris Guard sighed softly as they watched the flood head towards the far edge of the forest, bypassing Imladris only because Elrond at that moment reached out with Vilya and turned it away.

None of the Elves, either in the search party or in the city watching the flood roar past saw the dark head tumbling about in the water.

"Elrond! It is folly to continue searching in the dark, in the rain, with floods running through here and wolves likely waiting to pounce. We must go back" Glorfindel nearly whispered the last part. He was torn inside, knowing that if he was not found soon, Estel would not live to be found, but also unwilling to risk the life of his men and his Lord. His own life Glorfindel would play with, but not anyone else's.

"Glorfindel, I cannot leave him. It is impossible to think I would stop searching, I would search through life and death to the ends of the world" Elrond replied, searching once more for the trail. Glorfindel shook his head and motioned for his men, the best trackers and archers (besides Elladan and Elrohir) in the Imladris guard, to return to Imladris. His men obeyed without question, and Glorfindel was left alone with Elrond.

Approaching the Elf Lord, Glorfindel cleared his throat. "Hîr nin, I cannot let you continue. If you are lost, which is very possible in this storm with the dangers this far out in the forest, Estel would have no hope. Imladris would founder, and your sons and Arwen would die. They love you too much to be parted with you in such a way. Please, Elrond, come back. I swear we will begin anew first light, but in order for that we need to go back now."

"All right, all right, Glorfindel, I understand. But it is so hard to leave him here, he's only a child, he cannot make it on his own" Elrond said quietly. He turned to leave, but before he took a step an idea struck him. "Wait a moment, I can push these clouds away…we could continue searching."

Glorfindel sighed and rolled his eyes, stepping behind Elrond and guiding the younger Elf back towards Imladris. "Elrond, we need these rains. You cannot push them away." In his mind Glorfindel had hoped Elrond was too worried about his son to realize that he could push the rain away until they were back to the Last Homely House, even though Imladris was too in need of the rain to send it off.

"I am sorry, Elrond, mellon nin. I will set out first thing in the morning" Glorfindel assured quietly. Elrond nodded slightly, walking with heavy steps back towards his home.


	3. Chapter Three

**Not Old Enough** **Chapter Three**

**By: Elenaiel**

**For full heading, including disclaimers, see Chapter One.**

****

* * *

Estel awoke early the next morning. He was utterly exhausted and completely bewildered, and, to make it worse, hungry.

"Ada…" he cried softly. His eyes were still closed and his mind asleep, too far gone to remember anything. This proved to be a bad combination, as Estel rolled out of the nest of intertwined branches he'd slept on.

"Ahhhhhhh!" His terrified screech echoed through the woods around him. Far, far away, his brothers heard his cry, being on the opposite side of the narrow canyon he was in. The sounds had carried through, bouncing off the canyon walls. Elladan and Elrohir had been preparing to return home, having seen the floods go by and been caught in it themselves. They stopped, however, when they heard the far off, nearly silent wail. No one but an elf would have been able to hear it, but the sons of Elrond did and they hurriedly packed their camp, heading towards it. Somewhere deep within their hearts they had the fleeting feeling they knew that scream...

Back in Rivendell, Elrond and Glorfindel prepared once more to head out. The Elven Lords were both in a somewhat sorrowful state, neither having slept at all, or indeed having taken time that morning to braid their hair or do anything more time consuming than washing quickly with a wet cloth over their bodies. Within minutes – minutes Elrond thought could ill afford to be lost as he went about hurrying the search party along, much to their annoyance – the team was ready. Several of Glorfindel's better archers and his best trackers were along, though the archers were different than those who had accompanied them last night. Later musing on this decision, Glorfindel would berate himself for not choosing his best, for it would have made things much easier.

Heading out midmorning, many munching on apples or other portable, small food items as they went, the Elves marched deep into the woods. This day, unlike the previous night, was clear and warm, the perfect autumn day. Too perfect, thought Glorfindel. He glanced at Elrond, thinking he may have used Vilya to influence the weather in his distress. He could see nothing more than a grim determination and deep sorrow, however.

"Well, we've officially lost his trail. What now?" a very irritated member of the party asked. His name was Haloisi, the youngest in their party and third youngest Elf in Imladris. He hadn't even wanted to come, thinking it certain Estel was dead in the floods.

"We have lost the visible trail, but the trees are whispering of him. He went that way, to that large tree over there. That's where he slept," Legolas said, pointing to a very large, very old tree.

The Elves immediately ran to the tree, heedless of any danger that may rest there. Fortunately, this was not a problem, as there was no danger.

"Estel! Estel!" Elrond called. Hearing only silence in reply, he called again. "And of course, the only time I would give anything to have the boys here instead of out where they can't do harm to Imladris, they're long gone," he muttered bitterly after a moment.

While most of the group looked a bit unsure what to say, Legolas looked incredibly focused.

"Wait, Elrond, you will not find him there. He fell out in the middle of the night."

"What? Well where did he go to then?" Elrond demanded to know. Legolas hesitated a bit before telling him.

"He fell out when a pack of wolves started howling beneath him. Then...then the floods came. He's gone. He's no longer in the valley at all…" Legolas muttered quietly. He did not enjoy having to break this news. Elrond obviously did not like taking it; he'd turned a deathly shade of white, and his mouth was open.

"He's gone?"

"I'm afraid so. I suggest we look for him outside of the valley, he's bound to be there somewhere. Come on, let's go," Glorfindel ordered, taking control. It's a little unnerving watching Elrond react like this. The child is special, yes, but…

The party marched in the opposite direction, rushing straight through Imladris itself (shocking a few of the residents, who weren't accustomed to seeing the Guard in full armor dashing past, determined and dangerous). Soon enough they were out of the forest, not far from where Estel had woken up that morning.

On an intercept course for Lord Elrond, his twin sons were also investigating the faint cry they'd heard just a few short hours ago.

The twins were slightly held up by a few wargs and an Orc band, but all in all they made decent time. Elrond's search party had begun to move into the unsearched area as Elladan came running in, looking again for the call.

"Elladan, Elrohir, what on earth…" Elrond said, puzzled. Elrohir had popped out of the bushes right behind his brother.

"We were packing up to come back after the floods last night, and we heard someone screaming this morning. I'm surprised you didn't hear...it sounded like a child, and no decent Elf would leave a child in danger. We came back this way to find the source," Elladan explained simply while Elrohir looked around.

"That child may well have been Estel," one of the Elves in the party said quietly. Both twins' eyes widened.

"Estel! What was he...he didn't...oh..." Elrohir was having difficulty speaking at this revelation.

"Yes, Elrohir, I'm afraid he did," was the only response. Legolas was too focused on the trees to notice much. Before long, however, he turned to the group.

"These trees are not speaking much. They know only that Estel slept here, he was here once, but they say no more."

Elrond's brow furrowed. He began to search furiously, like someone who had lost his soul. It was nearly noon now, and Estel's small nest in a tree was clearly visible after a bit of looking. Unfortunately, it was no longer occupied, nor had it been for a quite a while, a few hours or so.

Upon closer inspection, Elrond found something beneath the makeshift nest.

Nearly unnoticeable beneath the water left from the floods (the ground was unusually hard and nonporous in this part of the forest, and water stood long on top of the soil) there was a water filled depression. Something must have hit the ground hard to make such an imprint on such hard soil.

It was the imprint of a small child, undoubtedly Estel. However, the child was no where to be found. Only a small tunic was left, hanging from a branch that had apparently snagged it while he was falling.

"Oh Estel..." Elladan murmured quietly. He hadn't expected the little one to try to follow them, and he was wrestling with the feelings of guilt that always seem to come when harm befalls a loved one. He could not help feeling responsible, as if it was his fault for refusing to let Estel come in the first place.

"Elladan, Elrohir, you search over there. Elrond, you and I will search here. My soldiers, split into groups with..." this was as far as Glorfindel was able to get in his orders.

Without warning, a large warg leapt from the bushes and attacked the group. Screaming after it came its apparent master—the animal had an Orc saddle on it, but no rider.

The Orc in question saw the armored Elves and screeched, calling out to his clan. Soon enough, at least a hundred or more Orcs rushed out of the woods, attacking the Elves.

The Elven archers weren't prepared, but it did not take them long to get the idea. They let fly arrow after arrow, but more and more Orcs seemed to pop out of the earth itself. It was a losing battle—several Elves were already sporting bloody wounds and one had apparently been poisoned, falling to the ground in a full-blown seizure.

It was all the Elves could do to retreat. The search for Estel wasn't going to do anyone any good if the party died in the process.

I find it difficult to believe Estel would still be alive with that band of bloodthirsty abominations loose in this forest...it is not safe here Haloisi thought while carrying his fallen friend out of the battle. The Elf, named Aira for his copper colored hair, was still twitching and crying out in apparent pain.

The group rushed back to Imladris with all due speed. Aira was treated and was expected to recover fully, although he'd be out of the Imladris Guard for a little bit. The rest of the search party was not seriously harmed, though some sported bright white linen wrapped around them in various places—arms, legs, torsos, even one with a head wound.

Estel still had not been found, and the treatment of the Elven injured had taken Elrond most of the night to accomplish. It was too dark to search when he finished.

Praying to Elbereth that his human son was still alive and uninjured, and would make it through the night, Elrond clutched the tiny boy's shirt. It was stained and bloody, but it was all Elrond had to go on.

He had a sinking feeling in his chest...they weren't going to find Estel in time. He knew it in his heart, in his bones...his youngest would be lost.

Elrond prayed his premonition would not come true, before sitting down on his bed and drugging himself so he could rest in order to search again in the morning.

He could only hope there was still a child to search for...


	4. Chapter Four

Not Old Enough Chapter Four

**By** : Eleniel

**For full heading, including disclaimers, see Chapter One.**

**Reminder** : encompasses thoughts

_Earlier that morning..._

"...Ahhhhhh!" Estel's screams echoed through the canyon. While his brothers on the other side rushed to get to the source of the sound, Estel fell from the tree he'd slept in.

He hit several branches on the way down, and for a moment his fall was broken.

His tunic snagged on one particularly sturdy branch. The child hung for a moment, swaying in the breeze, praying his shirt and the branch would hold until he was found—he was sure his father and Glorfindel would be searching for him, sure as only a child could be that they would find him even if he wasn't in the valley anymore.

Unfortunately, not many hopes are fulfilled and Estel heard a loud ripping sound. He dropped several inches, but stopped again. For a moment, he thought his clothing would hold, but it was hurting his ribs how he hung now.

Estel's shirt tore no more, but instead he began to slide out of it. It was being pulled over his head just as if his Ada was helping him dress for some special occasion.

He fell to the ground, leaving a small impression in the hard dirt.

The child lay there for several minutes, thrown off by the sudden pain. It hurt to breathe now—he did not know it but Estel had broken several ribs. His arm was still sore from yesterday.

Finally rising, Estel made his way further into the woods, hoping he was going in the right direction. He was totally and utterly lost now, and he knew it. Despair was finally setting in on the little one's heart, but he still had hope—it wasn't just his namesake, as Elrond had long known.

Estel walked long into the morning, stopping once for breakfast. His bread was soggy and inedible, but the apples he had taken were still good, if bruised. He ate one before walking more.

The more he moved the worse Estel felt. He had been sick before, with the sniffles and once with pneumonia (he had spent the day in the snow with a preexisting case of the sniffles and no coat), and he recognized how he felt now. He was sick.

"I wonder..." Estel broke off midsentence as a fit of coughing racked his tiny body. He stood for a moment, catching his breath, before continuing to walk. As with all other children, Estel did not realize how sick he truly was. He would not stop until he could no longer walk—unfortunately he wasn't far off.

Still, Estel managed to walk far into the afternoon. His ribs ached with every breath and every step, and even worse when he coughed, which he was doing more and more of.

"I don't feel good," he said miserably, sitting down. There wasn't any water on the ground in this part of the wood, and the trees weren't so easy to climb. Within minutes, Estel was lost in a fitful sleep, yelling out for his Ada at some points, Elladan and Elrohir at others. He even screamed for Glorfindel once.

His screams were unnoticed by the Elves, who had returned to Rivendell after they'd been attacked that morning, but the Orcs did hear them.

"Well, what has we got here?" said one Orc, creeping out of the woods cautiously. No one was standing between him and the small form on the ground—a child, and an Elf child by his dressing. The Orc could not be sure, however, because the little boy's ears and face were hidden by his wavy black hair.

Estel did not wake when the Orc lifted him, nor when we was bound and thrown roughly to the bottom of a tree.

He did wake, however, when a coughing fit seized him. Hacking up a lung or two woke the whole camp, which, although it was small, did not bode well.

"Shut up, Elf brat! You Elves don't get sick, we knows you're just fakin'!" a random Orc called, getting up to slap the child in the head.

This action not only intensified Estel's coughing fit but it exposed his ears. The Orc who'd hit him stood for a moment, letting his slow brain put the pieces together.

"Hey, this ain't no Elf! He's got round ears! He's a Man!" the Orc screamed.

"Maybe he's juss a disformed Elf, ain't go no ears," another Orc replied sleepily. The first Orc, not being particularly bright, accepted this as truth.

Finally, Estel's coughing fit ceased and the camp went back to sleep until early in the morning, while the stars were still shining.

Back in Rivendell, later that morning

Elrond awoke at first light, quickly rousing Glorfindel, who hadn't been injured in yesterday's attack, and Legolas, who had requested to go out with them again and had proved invaluable yesterday—he had taken down several Orcs and saved several Elves. The twins were also awoken.

The two Elf Lords and the Princes of both Mirkwood and Imladris quickly gathered another search party, with Glorfindel's best archers, swordsmen, and two who were also skilled in healing, for a total of about twenty Elves. Five of them were good healers, and all carried ample supplies, so any wounds that were not life threatening could be taken care of on the trail.

It was the third day Estel had been lost in the woods, and hope for the child wasn't plentiful.

Elrond's party soon made it to where they had been the day before, and Elladan and Elrohir were able to pick up a small trail leading towards the outer edge of the Misty Mountains. They followed it to what looked like an Orkish camp.

Drawing their weapons the Elves marched into the camp, prepared to fight. The camp was empty, however. It had been emptied hours ago.

"Ada! Estel was here. They have him...he was bound here last night," Elladan said, pointing to an imprint at the base of a tree. It was small and curled in on itself, obviously that of his youngest brother. Panic rose in his throat...Estel had been captured by Orcs...he was only a child, he wouldn't be able to withstand most anything they did to him...

The Elves rushed off, following Elrohir, who was tracking the trail as well as he could.

By nightfall the Elves had caught up to the Orcs, and it was a relatively small camp, but they had something at this camp that they hadn't at the last: wargs.

"We will wait until they are asleep; I see Estel, he seems to be sleeping, he looks only slightly injured," Glorfindel said, taking charge before Elrond could say anything and making the decision. "It will be easier and faster if we can get out with little or no fighting." In his heart Glorfindel hoped his guesses were not wrong and Estel was not terribly injured...

The camp soon quieted, all except a wheezing sound. It was coming from Estel...the boy was apparently ill.

It was a quick raid, including only the deaths of Estel's guard and an Orc who'd woken and seen the Elves. The wargs, of course, had been killed too, or they would have woken the whole camp.

The Elves did not stop until they were far away from the Orc camp, running silently in the night. When they got to a clear spot, however, Elrond forced them to stop—Estel was failing, and fast.

The small child coughed constantly, and when he wasn't coughing he was wheezing. His ribs were apparently broken and his arm was injured, and his lips and fingers were blue.

Elrond splinted his wrist to prevent further injury, gave him an herb to try to help him breathe, and wrapped him in the Elf Lord's warm cloak, as well as the cloak Glorfindel gave, before moving on as swiftly as he could.

It did not take long before the group got back to Imladris, and Elrond and his sons rushed immediately to Elrond's chamber, leaving Legolas and Glorfindel alone in the hall.

Before long, Elrond was calling out to Legolas and Glorfindel for herbs, mixtures, cloths, water, and almost every other medical need one could think of. The two complied, rushing back and forth all night, until Elrond deemed he had everything he needed.

Early in the morning a very sleepy, harrowed Lord Elrond came out.

"He has bronchitis, complicated with pneumonia it looks like, and four of his ribs are broken. His wrist is sprained and he has bruises and cuts from the Orcs..." at this point Elrond's eyes narrowed in fury. He continued after a moment, "...I am not...I am not sure he will survive...he is struggling to breathe and his fever is far too high...he's not responding to anything I'm giving him," Elrond said, lowering his gaze.

Even after everything they'd done to rescue him, the youngest Prince of Rivendell still might die...that was heartbreaking for the Elves present to accept.

Glorfindel stood in shocked silence. Elrond was very upset; he would do anything to save his adopted son, and this was a double blow; he was watching his son die and he could not save him...he had failed a patient, and not only a patient but a child and his son at that.

Before long, Elladan and Elrohir called Elrond back in with Estel, and the three of them stayed with him for the rest of the night, willing him to get better...

The next morning was indeed a sorrowful one. The residents of Imladris knew the child had been found but they did not know his condition, nor why their Lord refused to leave his house and canceled his meetings that day. They did not know how critical Estel was—the child required round the clock care now if he was to even have a chance. Elladan and Elrohir had bedded down, and were sleeping although it was day now; they would stay with Estel through that night. Glorfindel and Elrond were with him now.

"Elrond, you need to rest. The boy will not get any better if his caretakers are too tired to realize they are using the wrong herb," Glorfindel said seriously as he replaced the mint herb in Elrond's hand with Athelas.

Elrond frowned as he added the right herb to the mixture and carefully poured it down his ill son's throat.

Estel's face was red with fever, but his lips were still blue, and the shade was darkening. His body was shaking although it was covered with various blankets, and his breathing was very labored. Elrond had tried everything...herbs to thin the mucus clogging his lungs, to take the water out of his lungs, to ease the swelling of his airways...but the boy was not responding. He was dying, letting go of life.

Please, Estel, for me, hold on, don't let go...fight it...Elrond thought desperately, praying to every Valar he could think of to save the small boy's life.

Estel made it through the night all right, leading Elrond to cautiously hope he would not have any more problems...how wrong he was.

It was only the second day Estel had been home, but he was already causing problems...

"ELROND! ELROND!" Glorfindel screamed, not caring what he looked like to the household staff.

Elrond came running at Glorfindel's panicky calls. "What is it!" he asked, bewildered.

"Estel isn't breathing, he's not responding to anything I'm giving him. His heart hasn't stopped but he can't draw breath, there is too much fluid in his chest," Glorfindel said breathlessly, immediately dashing back to the child's side.

Estel was a deep blue-purple shade, staring with glazed half-lidded eyes.

Elrond immediately began working to force air into his child's lungs, while Glorfindel shouted orders to any Elf within range (including Elladan and Elrohir, who came running) to get various herbs and anything else he thought Elrond might need that wasn't already there.

Worry and panic coursed through Elrond's veins. If Estel was lost now, what would that mean for mankind in the future?

They won't have a future... some instinct in Elrond said, and he continued to work even more furiously on his adopted son.

After what seemed like hours but must have been only minutes, Estel began breathing again, hoarse, ragged breaths, irregular and shallow, but at least he was breathing.

Now if only Elrond could get the fluid out of his chest, things would be ok.

If he couldn't...well, he'd rather not think about it.

But how to go about it? Elrond began to ponder as he set aside all meetings and things for the next few days that were not downright necessary. The rest were moved into the hall right outside his chambers, where Estel rested, and both twins stayed with their brother, in case he stopped breathing again.

Before long, the familiar cries for Elrond sounded again, and he snapped out of the light sleep he'd fallen into, rushing once more to save his son.


	5. Chapter Five

**Not Old Enough Chapter Five**

**By** : Elenaiel

**For full heading, including disclaimers, see Chapter One.**

**Reminder** : encompasses thoughts

**A/N** : I'm sorry that this chapter's a bit shorter; it's just how it turned out.

* * *

Elrond sighed wearily. It had been a long, long day.

Estel had been found only the day before in an Orc camp. The small boy had four broken ribs, probably from his fall out of the tree, a sprained wrist, various cuts and bruises—two of which had become infected over the night and would require reopening in order to clean them, which was not something Elrond wanted to do—and to make it all worse, he had bronchitis complicated with pneumonia.

To put it in a nutshell, his chances of survival appeared to be slim to none.

Hearing the cries for him once more, Elrond raced back to his chambers, which were only across the hall from his current location. Still, however, the servant who'd been assigned to watch Estel was trampled in the process. Elrond didn't have time to apologize; he could only rush to his son's side.

The servant only smiled as she watched Elrond work furiously to help his son. The little one had stopped breathing again, though his heart had never once halted.

"May I be of assistance, hîr nin?" Aimithe asked, brushing herself off and poking her head into the door.

"Fetch Glorfindel and my sons," Elrond said without looking up. He was trying once more to force air into Estel's small lungs, but they did not seem to want to take it in. Estel's eyes were half-open now, glazed and unfocused, and his small body was shivering and shaking with convulsions, presumably because of his dangerously high fever.

"Ada?" both twins said at once, stepping into the room. They took one look at the blue-purple color of their foster-brother's lips and hands and immediately stooped over him.

"Elladan, get the coldest water you can find, soak a cloth in it and put it on his forehead, we need to get his temperature down, he's having fever seizures," Elrond said, removing his hands as Estel began once more to seize. "He will never be normal again if we cannot stop the seizures, his brain is swelling. Elrohir, I need you to breathe for him, Glorfindel, thank Elbereth, he's crashing again, do what you can to loosen the mucus in his chest, it's clogging his airways," Elrond was snapping out orders as quickly as they could be carried out. Elladan dashed out, soon returning and placing an ice-cold cloth on his brother's forehead, rewetting it frequently to keep it cold. Elrohir began forcing air in through Estel's mouth, and the blue-purple color of his lips lessened slightly. Glorfindel started tapping on the child's back to try and loosen some of the thick, viscous liquid choking the child. Elrond was also working, quickly but carefully concocting a very strong-smelling paste.

Spreading some across Estel's chest and holding the bowl beneath his nose, Elrond hoped the mixture of mints would open his airways a bit, and the other herbs added in should dilate his bronchial tubes.

Slowly, painfully slowly to those present, Estel began once more to gulp small, quick breaths. His lips remained tinted blue, as did his extremities, but his eyes closed fully once more.

It went on like that for several more days—Estel would turn blue again, his heart would beat erratically, frantically, or maybe he would have another seizure. Soon Elrond would not leave the room, and Elladan and Elrohir often stayed with their father and brother, trying to soothe Estel in his feverish tormented nightmares. He tried often to scream, to call for help, but every time he tried he ended in a coughing fit, coughs racking his fragile body until he turned blue again.

"His fever is slowly going down, but it will be a miracle if he has no brain damage after that," Elrond commented one night, five days after Estel had been found. Estel's small face was neither red with fever nor blue for lack of oxygen now, and he had had his last seizure a day and a half ago. His breathing was still hoarse and ragged, and he had yet to wake, but surely he was recovering.

"Ada?" a hushed, pained voice came from the bed.

Elrond jumped up, quickly kneeling by Estel's side.

"Ada...wha...it hurts ada," Estel mumbled. His face was pained terribly, and it broke Elrond's heart knowing he would not feel better for a while yet.

"Elrond, here...Estel, you've woken," Glorfindel commented, surprised. He sat the food tray he had been carrying down and kneeled next to Elrond.

"Man naikele lle," Elrond asked in the Grey Tongue. Estel had been raised since the age of two in the House of Elrond, and so he'd grown up speaking first the Grey Tongue and then Westron, but the Grey Tongue was more soothing. _((What hurts? (Literally 'what pains you')))_

" _ **Iluve**_ ," Estel responded, curling in on himself in an attempt to ease the pain. He found he could not move well, however, for even though the Elves had continued moving his arms and legs to prevent them locking up with disuse and to keep circulation going, he was very stiff. _((Everything))_

"Man naikele ner?" Elrond asked gently, easing the child back into a straightened position. He swept his hands over Estel's bare chest, feeling for a moment before putting his ear to the child's skin and listening to his wheezing. _((What hurts most?))_

"Eller," Estel said, pointing a shaking hand towards his chest. _((There))_

"I see," Elrond said, switching back to Westron. "Estel, I need you to lay still and we will try to help the pain and help you breathe, but you need to tell us if you feel any worse at all, ok? Can you do that for me?" he asked tenderly. Estel nodded, and Glorfindel and Elrond stood up.

"Help him sit a little higher, so his head is above his chest once more," Elrond told Glorfindel. "Wait, I think it may help him a little better if you were holding him, he seeks comfort," he corrected himself as Estel latched onto Glorfindel's hand, which had been trying to sit him up a bit.

Glorfindel nodded and asked for his hand back before he carefully climbed onto the bed behind the boy, settling with Estel leaning back onto him as he massaged the little one's sore arms and legs.

"Uuma dela," he whispered to the child, seeking to comfort him. _((Don't worry))_

Estel did not respond, only bowed his head and sank into Glorfindel, struggling to breathe.

"Estel? Lle desiel?" Elrond asked, holding a strong-scented cup of tea before the boy. Estel raised his eyes. "Sana sina." _((Are you ready? Take this))_

Estel shook his head once, stopping immediately. His chest felt like it was on fire, and now that he thought about it his wrist was slightly sore too. He looked at it only to discover it was still contained in a wrap—his body hadn't been healing quickly due to the extreme sickness.

"Estel, tampa. Sana sina," Elrond said again, forcing the mug into the boy's hands. When he handed it right back, Elrond sighed and shook his head. He is so strong-willed...it will help him, but I am afraid it will someday harm him as well he thought. _((Stop. Take this))_

"Glorfindel..." Elrond said quietly, tipping his head a bit. Glorfindel had helped him raise two other stubborn children, and this quiet sign language had been perfected between the two Elf Lords long ago, occasionally coming into play when a wounded Elladan or Elrohir refused to swallow something.

Glorfindel nodded, moving his hands from Estel's small arms and catching his head. He tipped it back a bit, and Estel opened his mouth on instinct.

"Estel, I am going to give this to you one way or the other. Do not struggle and swallow without hassle and I promise this won't happen again, but you have been very, very sick and you need to take your medicine," Elrond said wearily. He'd been up almost constantly for the past eight days, first worrying and then tending the small human child.

Estel did not struggle; merely let Glorfindel hold his head while Elrond poured small amounts of the tea in. It tasted horribly bitter, and Estel swallowed only because he had no choice.

"There, was that so hard?" Elrond asked when he had finished. Estel glared at him, and he smiled slightly. "Hiraetha im," he apologized, "but it had to be done. Lle anta yulna en alu?" _((I'm sorry. Do you need a drink of water?))_

"No," Estel said dreamily. The tea Elrond had given him was making him very sleepy, although it did help the pain in his chest a bit and it was getting easier to breathe. The last thing Estel remembered before falling asleep was his foster father smoothing a minty-smelling, gooey paste onto his chest once more.

As soon as Estel was asleep once more, adrift in a dreamless black world, Elrond breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't wanted to force the tea into the child, but he hadn't had much choice—one way or the next it had to get into the child.

"I will stay with him tonight, he needs to be held and you need to rest," Glorfindel said as Elrond smoothed a blanket over both of them. "He will be fine, mellon nin. Get some rest." _((my friend))_

"Thank you, Glorfindel," Elrond said, putting a cover over the candles in the room to dim their light. He quieted the fire until it was just smoldering before he left.

Glorfindel smiled once and settled down into the bed for the night, soon falling into a light sleep. Estel never once moved in his drugged sleep, and it was safe to assume he did not dream either. He was finally resting peacefully, and his breathing was easing. His body was on the mend.


	6. Chapter Six

**Not Old Enough Chapter Six**

**By** : Elenaiel

For full heading, including disclaimers, see Chapter One.

**A/N:** I am sorry if my Elvish isn't quite right, I do not pretend to be an expert (though I would love to be) and the dictionary I use may not be totally correct. I am doing my best.:

**This** chapter is particularly short, but hey; it's the last one.

* * *

"Glor? Glorfindel?" Estel tapped weakly on the Elf's arms, encircling him as he slept. One of Glorfindel's hands was resting on Estel's chest, ensuring he would realize should the child stop breathing once more.

"What is it, Estel? Do you need something?" Glorfindel replied when he came out of his sleep. He shifted Estel in his arms so the boy was leaning rather like an infant, cradled in one arm. It was dark in the room, and the fire was nearly out. Outside the windows, the sun seemed to be considering poking above the mountains.

"It hurts again," Estel whispered in a compromised voice, his face screwed up against the pain. His breaths were becoming shallower again as his mind unconsciously sought to ease the torrents of flame lacing through his ribs.

"I know little one, it is never fun to be ill. How about you let me slide out of the bed and I'll bring the fire back up; it seems a tad bit chilly in here, doesn't it?" Glorfindel asked, cuddling a shivering Estel for a minute before he rearranged the child.

Striding quickly across the room, he removed all of the covers dimming the candles, relighting the ones that had gone out before he threw a log on the smoldering ashes in the hearth. After a bit of poking and prodding, a merry little fire was crackling and filling the room with flickering light.

Estel watched, the lights flashing and dancing across his tired little face. He hadn't woken until morning light, but he was still exhausted.

"Now, Estel, I need you to drink this while I put a little more water on to boil," Glorfindel said, handing another strong-scented cup of tea to Estel. The little boy wrinkled his nose, considering rejecting it. "Estel, please drink it. I promise it will help you get better, and the sooner you get better the less time you have to lay here in bed," he said, playing on Estel's known hatred of bedrest. The ploy worked – the empty cup was handed back to him in seconds.

Glorfindel was left to himself for a few minutes as Estel lay, entranced in thought. He used the time to prepare more of the minty paste Elrond had been using on Estel's chest to help the boy breathe.

After a little while, Glorfindel stopped, covering the paste and sitting on the end of the bed.

"I think someone needs a hot bath before we put any more mint rub on your chest," he said, smiling and dipping a cloth into a little cauldron of water he'd taken off the fire not too long ago. The water was very warm still but not hot enough to burn. Estel relaxed and allowed himself to be sponge-bathed and dressed in a warm nightshirt.

"Glor, I can't just stay in my bedtime clothes all day," he said hoarsely. Glorfindel laughed quietly, handing him a cup of water and looking out the window.

"Well whyever not? You're still sick little one, and you can't get out of bed today," Glorfindel replied, earning a glare.

"Will too," Estel said grumpily, attempting to sit up and landing himself in another coughing fit.

"No, I'm afraid you shan't be up today. But, I don't have any training sessions, so if you want, we can play a little and I will tell you stories of when I was small, like you," he offered. Estel smiled and nodded – he loved hearing stories, as long as they were good enough to hold his interest.

"Well, I see why you would want to play, but I am wondering if I should let you listen to his stories. He seems to enjoy frightening small children with stories of Balrogs and Orcs," Elrond said. He had slipped in unnoticed some minutes ago, while his friend and protector had still been dressing Estel. Glorfindel looked up, an undignified expression gracing his fair features.

"I do not," he said, but Estel was nodding slightly.

"I know, ada, I wanna hear," he said quietly, stifling a yawn. The Elves just smiled.

Elrond picked up the bowl of mint paste off the table where Glorfindel had placed it, and as he opened the front of Estel's nightshirt to smear some on his chest, he said, "Maybe later, Estel, right now I want you to sleep some more."

"'m not...sleepy," Estel answered, yawning once more. Elrond's only reply was to put a hand on Estel's forehead and close his eyes in a look of deep concentration. In a few seconds, the child was asleep again, helped along by Elrond's abilities.

Quietly putting away the tools Glorfindel had used to make the mint rub, Elrond had to smile. "So innocent," he stated, watching Estel's small body curled in sleep. Nothing but his still slightly labored breathing and pale color gave away his condition.

"Such is the innocence of all children. They do not know the evils of the world," Glorfindel replied, brushing a few strands of hair out of Estel's eyes.

"I do not look forward to the day he learns of them," Elrond answered, sitting on the edge of the bed, next to his son's head.

"Ada?" a voice from the doorway interrupted the conversation. Elladan was standing partially inside the room, looking at his little human brother. "How is he?"

"He is better, Elladan. He will live. Though, when he wakes, he will have a long lesson on how important it is to listen to his father. I don't know what I would have done..." Elrond trailed off, not wanting to think of the possibility. Estel held the hope of men, true, but he also held the Elf Lord's heart in his little hand. Sometimes, upon reflection, Elrond thought it unwise to become so attached to the Dúnadan child. All men must someday die. But, as he observed the little form, so pure and innocent, blanketed in sleep on the large bed, he did not regret taking the boy into his heart.

* * *

**_Epilogue_ **

* * *

_One year later..._

"Estel! Hurry, little one, we must set off soon," Elrohir laughed as his younger brother nodded and raced to his bedroom, a smile as big as an oliphaunt plastered across his face.

After Estel had recovered from his misadventures in the forest, Elrond had given him a long talk indeed, and Estel had taken several weeks before he began asking to be taken hunting again.

The child was now eight, and had learned to use a bow in the last year. He had been so dedicated that he'd picked up new skills almost daily, and now he was ready for his first hunting trip. They would not be leaving the valley, but they would be going somewhere Estel had never been.

Elladan had made the mistake of letting Estel know several days in advance, so that every waking moment seemed like an eternity to the boy, and those around him were soon weary of listening to his incessant chatter. Even at meals he hardly quieted enough to eat, asking everything about the trip he could.

"This is all your fault," Elrohir had remarked one day, glaring at Elladan while trying to get Estel to focus on his lessons. Elladan had merely shrugged and laughed.

Now, the big day was here...Estel would go on his first hunting trip, with his brothers and Glorfindel. He was finally old enough.


End file.
